Lost Letters

I sit here and I think about how much I love you, your eyes, your hair, your voice, your smile, your body, your mind, your laugh, your soul, your heart. All the things you say. All the things you do. Everything. From the very tip of your toes to the very top of your head. I am in love with every aspect of you, even the parts you have grown to hate. So, i want to take the bits of you I love and press them like flowers between the pages of my favourite book, and I want to take all the scraps that you dislike in yourself and display them on my refrigerator to show you I'm still proud of the person you are and the person you're becoming, but most of all i want to spin you like a globe and drag my finger across till it stops to discover the pieces of you that you've yet to reveal to anyone else, I want to wrap them in the linen and place them in an old cigar box, I'd tuck it away safely, it the top drawer of my bedside table so you know I'll never let those pictures, those pieces of you go, because when you share hidden parts of yourself with someone else you're trusting that person to old secret sections of your heart and to love the bits of you you thought were unlovable.